


Hard Up

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Lust Spell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DADA Professor Potter is hit by a lust spell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Up

**Author's Note:**

> AU after OotP.

He was so hard and had no idea what to do about it. The curse had packed a wallop - what were they teaching kids nowadays? In his day, it would have been a Slytherin; they had been the ones with the knowledge of Dark curses, not bloody Hufflepuff third-years! To her credit, poor Hyacinth Smith seemed to have no idea of what she had done. If she had at least known which curse she'd used, he could have possibly found the countercurse. As it was, he seemed to be doomed to go about the rest of his life with permanent wood.

Harry groaned and hid his face in his hands. He'd gone through all his books and all that was left was the Restricted Section. Only three floors, 435 feet, and the more than off chance that his old nemesis was lurking somewhere, just waiting for a chance to pop out of the shadows to make Hogwarts' new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor feel like an 11-year-old again.

He looked longingly at the trunk in which he kept his cloak and the Marauder's Map. He was _not_ going to hide from Snape - at least, not directly. He was a teacher in this school now. He had just as much right to prowl the corridors at all hours of the night as the headmaster. Besides, he had 20 years' experience as an Auror behind him. He could do stealth without resorting to cheap magic tricks.

Pulling open the door to his chambers, he winced as it creaked open. He stuck his head out of the room, checking the corridor to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out.

He made it to the library without incident. By the light of his wand, he quickly made his way to the Restricted Section. After casting a few catalogue spells, he realized that the book he was looking for - _Coitus Interdictus: Sex, Lies, and Dark Curses_ by I. M. Hornée - was on the top shelf, accessible only by a very rickety ladder.

He eyed the ladder with trepidation before attempting to ascend it, testing each rung carefully as he climbed, until he reached the top. He scanned the titles, looking for the blasted book, ever mindful of the erection throbbing under his robes as though it had a life of its own, reminding him of his purpose while distracting him at the same time. Finally spotting it, he stretched out his hand to reach for it, holding on to the ladder with the other while balancing precariously on one foot.

"Hornée can't help you, Potter."

Harry shrieked and lost his balance, tumbling off the ladder and landing on something hard and soft and cursing. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, eyes closed, aware of the decidedly masculine body beneath him, all angles and bone, but still warm and inviting. He wanted to lose himself in the other man, bury his face in his neck and inhale his spicy scent and grind his erection against the other man's... not-erection?

"Is that a wand in your pocket, Potter, or are you happy to see me?"

Snape's slightly amused, mocking drawl brought him to his senses. His eyes shot open and he looked up to find the other man watching him with his trademark smirk. Harry drew in a sharp breath, horrified to find himself on top of the man he'd been trying so hard to avoid all day, although his body didn't seem to mind at all - in fact, it seemed quite intent on continuing to ravish the older man, as his hips ground against Snape and his cock instinctively sought contact.

A thousand comebacks passed through Harry's mind at that point, from scorn to outrage, none of which were remotely like the one that came out of his mouth, shocking and horrifying even himself.

"That depends on what you mean by 'wand', Snape," he said, wiggling his hips and grinding his hard cock against Snape's groin once more for effect. He almost groaned out loud at the feel of the warm body beneath him while wincing inwardly at his own words.

` _Merlin, what's come over me?_ he asked himself. _It's the curse. What else can it be?_ Using Snape to alleviate his little problem was out of the question, even if the old bastard was aging quite well, his black hair, greying slightly at the temples, tied back neatly, tasteful robes that befitted his position - he actually looked quite distinguished and Harry had often found his gaze returning to the other man since his return to Hogwarts. Despite his odd attraction, however, Snape was still a complete and utter git. So doing him was not up for discussion. At all.

Snape's body went rigid, and he began to struggle, flailing against Harry's immovable body, hardened by years of physical training.

"Get off me, you idiot!"

He poked and prodded and shoved until Harry's body relented, and Harry rolled off him. Snape jumped to his feet and brushed off his robes.

"Forget Hornée, Potter. Come along to my rooms, and I might be able to help you find a solution."

Harry stared at Snape for a long moment, uncertain of how to proceed. Snape, however, just stared back at him with that slightly - only slightly - menacing look that Harry had come to realise was Snape's "helping" face. Slowly he nodded and followed Snape out the door.

Snape led the way to his office. He motioned for Harry to take a seat and sat down in the large chair behind his desk. He leaned back in his chair and watched Harry with a smug look on his face that made Harry forget his previous, sudden urge to shag Snape through the floor of the library and made him want to put his fist through Snape's face instead.

"Well? Isn't there something you want to ask?"

Harry scowled at Snape. "No. Face it, Sna- Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore you're not. You don't exactly inspire confidences."

"Hmm," Snape said, tapping his chin as if he were considering a weighty problem. "What can I do to make a suspicious employee trust me?" Suddenly, his face brightened. Digging his pocket, he pulled out something. Crinkling his nose, he picked a few pieces of pocket lint off it and offered it to Harry.

"Sherbet lemon?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and snatched the candy from Snape's outstretched fingers, ignoring the shock that went through him when their skin came into contact. _That doesn't mean anything,_ he thought. _It's just the spell. Even the squid is looking good right about now._

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, hoping the changing pressure against his cock would ease the tension, tilting his head as he observed the other teacher.

"You're enjoying this entirely too much, Sn- sir."

Snape's eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. "Am I? Why would I enjoy seeing my _star_ employee in such pain? Especially when I hold the key to easing his, erm, predicament."

Once, Harry would have risen to the bait and shouted at Snape for letting him suffer the pain and embarrassment for so long. He was mature now, though, and he was in control of his temper.

"Damn it, Snape! Why didn't you tell me?" Harry shouted and then pressed his lips together before he could say more.

There. That had gone well. He was getting better at this, really, he was.

Snape, however, had gotten even better. Instead of rising to the bait, he sat back and steepled his fingers as if weighing what he was about to say before answering.

"It's a dark curse, Potter, with which, as you very know, I have some familiarity." Harry nodded curtly, his face growing red as he remembered more than one instance in the last war in which he had doubted Snape's allegiances due to this very same knowledge. "As it so happens, I have some familiarity with this particular curse as well. Pansy Parkinson - Hyacinth Smith's mother, by the way - used the very same curse on Draco Malfoy when she found out about his _amour fou_ with your friend Weasley." Harry grimaced at the mention of Ron and Draco, who still had a turbulent on-again, off-again relationship that Harry just barely tolerated for the sake of his friendship with Ron.

Snape continued. "I wouldn't be surprised if Miss Smith's 'accident' were anything but that. Her mother was never proven to be a Death Eater, but the old resentments run deep."

Harry nodded. He'd experienced enough since his defeat of Voldemort at the end of his seventh year to know that he had to be on his guard. Still, the random attacks had died down in the last few years, and he hadn't expected trouble from one of his own students, let alone a thirteen-year-old Hufflepuff.

"Luckily for you, Potter, the curse is fairly easy to cure despite its dark nature. This potion should do the trick." As he spoke, Snape opened his desk drawer to remove a vial, which he placed on the desk between them.

"It's topical," he said. "You'll need to apply to your nether regions before coitus."

"What?" Harry asked, jolting out of his reverie at Snape's words. Honestly, couldn't the man use normal English?

The other man rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Do I have to spell out everything, Potter? You apply it _there_ ," he said, motioning towards Harry's lap. "Normal sexual relations with your current 'inamorata' should do the trick."

Harry pressed his lips together, determined not to let Snape fluster him. "I understood that, Snape, it's just that I, um, don't have an inamorato."

"Inamorat _a_ , Potter. Inamorat _o_ is the masculine form."

"I'm well aware of that fact. Just... give me the vial, I'll think of something." Harry reached for the vial, looking up in surprise when Snape's hand stopped him. His heart began to beat strongly at the strange look on Snape's face and he was sure Snape could feel Harry's racing pulse under his warm fingertips.

"Potter, are you saying that you're-"

"Yes, I am! I'm sure you're pleased to have found that out. The Boy Who Lived is the Boy Who Lifted Shirts. Owl at 11."

As Snape suddenly released his hand, in revulsion at Harry's disclosure, no doubt, Harry snatched the potion and jumped to his feet. He had to get out of here right now.

"Potter. Harry. Sit down," Snape said, surprising Harry with an odd lack of the usual derision in his tone. "I should tell you a few things before you head off in search of... companionship for the evening."

Harry glared at Snape, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but apparently no more mocking would be forthcoming. Snape seemed sincere; his brow was knit, a slight frown on his face, no triumphant sneer twisting his lips. Figuring that he could suffer anything to relieve the constant pressure of his "nether regions," he decided to hear the other man out. He nodded in acquiescence and took his seat again.

Snape fixed his gaze at a point somewhere above Harry's head. Clearing his throat, he started to lecture in a slightly bored, matter-of-fact tone.

"In principle, Mr Potter, any sort of relations with another person would suffice, not just heterosexual intercourse and not just penetration. Anal intercourse, frottage, fellatio, analingus - the potion is strawberry-flavoured, incidentally - any acts in which the penis is stimulated to the point of release - with the exception of solo exploration - should... alleviate your problem."

Snape trailed off, putting his finger under his collar to adjust it as if he were having problems breathing. Harry, on his part, couldn't believe his ears. It was just like that time in third year again, when Madam Pomfrey had called all the boys to the infirmary to explain the difference between wizards and witches. Only the way Snape was rattling off the various ways that Harry could "alleviate" his problem in extremely clinical language was strangely alluring and, quite frankly, dead sexy.

"Um," Harry said. "Erm, thanks. You seem to know a lot about this topic." As Snape raised an inquiring eyebrow at him, he continued. "Gay sex, I mean. Um, well, how..." His voice trailed off as he noticed the faint blush staining Snape's cheeks.

"Well," Snape said, slowly, who seemed to be looking anywhere in the room except at Harry. "That's neither here nor there." The way Snape was constantly avoiding his eyes was starting to give Harry ideas

"But... It _could_ be," Harry said, getting up and walking around the desk. Grasping the edges of Snape's chair, he leaned into the other man's face. "I mean, if you're knowledgeable, perhaps you could help me. Give me advice or, perhaps, even a practical demonstration?"

"Potter, what-"

Before Snape could finish his sentence, Harry sealed off the other man's protests with a kiss.

Harry was almost too far gone to care if Snape was a willing participant. The combination of the curse, the "stimulating" conversation, and the man himself had conspired to drive Harry beyond the point of no return. Straddling the other man's hips, however, he ground against his crotch, relieved to feel an answering hardness. Snape moaned and his hands came up to grab Harry's arms to pull him closer and deepen the kiss, plundering Harry's mouth with aggressive thrusts of his tongue. He pulled back finally, panting for air, his somewhat glassy eyes looking searchingly into Harry's face.

"Harry... I don't want to take advantage of you in this condition."

Harry snorted. "If you don't take advantage of me, I'll take advantage of you. So shut up and fuck me, sir."

Stunned into silence for once, Snape could only nod dumbly as Harry slid off his lap and quickly shucked off his clothes. As he prepared to climb back onto Snape's lap, Snape stopped him.

"Don't forget the potion."

Harry swore. Picking up his robes he searched through the pockets, while Snape released his cock from the confines of his robes and began to stroke it. Finding the potion, he turned back to Snape with a flirty grin. Wiggling his eyebrows, he asked, "Who's going first?"

"I am," Snape said, jumping to his feet. He advanced on Harry, who suddenly felt dizzy at the intent look in Snape's eyes. He backed up until he felt the edge of Snape's desk against his arse. Snape's hips pinned him against the desk, holding him in place, his cock rubbing against Harry's - not enough to bring him any sort of relief, but enough to drive him even closer to the brink. Snape stared down at him, his eyes solemn, and his hand came up to cup Harry's face, his thumb gently stroking the younger man's cheekbone. At that moment, something shifted - Harry suddenly felt like he was seeing everything in a completely different way.

Harry held his breath, spellbound, as Snape's head came closer and closer until his mouth was poised just above Harry's so that he could feel Snape's breath on his lips. His lips parted, anticipating Snape's kiss, and his eyes fell closed. He waited. And waited.

"Well, Potter? What are you waiting for? We haven't got all night."

Harry whimpered and pressed his forehead against Snape's as the other man grunted in exasperation. Snape snatched the vial from his hand, and for a moment Harry heard sensed nothing from the other man. All of a sudden that changed as a cold, wet hand suddenly grasped his erection in a firm grip.

Harry cried out and grasped Snape's shoulders, his fingers digging clawlike through the thick robes and into the sparse flesh. Snape grunted and tightened his grip, driving his prick against Harry's. The tight, moist vise of Snape's hand, wrapped tightly around their cocks, rubbed there and _there_ , and Harry's cock thrust while Snape's parried, and he knew he wouldn't last, not after being so hard for so long, and suddenly he was coming, hot and thick and wet and ooooh, so good, too good as Snape tightened his grip and his pace as his own orgasm neared. Moments later he cried out as well, spilling over his hand and Harry's sore, spent cock.

Harry sighed in contentment as the two men clung to each other for a moment, too exhausted to move, seeking warmth and support in each other's arms. Finally Snape pulled away and performed a quick cleansing spell. He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Perhaps you should stay the night. Just... in case. We might have to repeat the process again.. And again... Well, any number of times, actually. Just to be sure."

"Oh!" Harry said, his heart skipping a beat. "Yeah, I, uh, agree. That would _definitely_ be for the best. We wouldn't want to stop prematurely and have to start all over again." He hoped the faint blush creeping into Snape's face meant what he thought it did.

Snape nodded. "Precisely. I can just imagine what the rest of the staff would say if you showed up at the door of my chambers sporting an erection every night until this problem is solved."

Harry nodded solemnly, trying to fight back a grin. "Yeah, that would be just awful."

"Shut it, Potter," Snape said, but without heat, as he beckoned Harry towards his private chambers.


End file.
